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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25076248">Let Me Watch You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jase/pseuds/Jase'>Jase</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Emmerdale, robron</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Masturbation, Porn, Porn Video, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Watchers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:15:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,610</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25076248</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jase/pseuds/Jase</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Robert the cam boy gives a performance all the while being intrigued by a mysterious fan.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aaron Dingle/Robert Sugden</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>66</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Fair warning, I'm not sure what this is or if it'll be a full on multi chapter.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fuck, he's close.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's a rush, it still is even after all this time. The eyes on him, the excitement he's causing them, the things they say to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>PING</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>@greasemonkey has tipped 150 tokens.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He can't help but smile that smug smile of his at the notification. Greasemonkey, one of his most avid fans. Whoever they are, they certainly like to tip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thanks, greasemonkey", Robert winks at his laptop's camera then goes back to stroking himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's fucking insane. It really is. Here he is jerking off in front of his laptop, letting people watch, and he's making bank. He's making some serious bank. Damn near enough to not even have to work a real job.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He uses his right hand to slowly stroke his cock as he leans back, his head against the headboard of his bed, and his left hand looped behind his leg, playing with his hole.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>@naughty_mary: You are so hot!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>@nutellagirl: I need a fan over here. This is smoking hot. I can just lick that chest.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>@jaxxon88: Fuck, mate! Stroke that cock.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>PING</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>@jaxxon has tipped 100 tokens.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>@jaxxon: I need to see you come, mate.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Robert grins as his blue-green eyes stare back into the camera, "haven't hit the goal yet, mate."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>PING</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>@greasemonkey has tipped 500 tokens.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Thanks, greasemonkey." He nearly moaned. He's so fucking close, but he can't come quite yet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>PING</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>@greasemonkey has tipped 500 tokens.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>1,000 tokens needed to reach final goal.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Just a thousand more guys", he smiled and slowly stroked his cock. His hand so expertly moving up and down in a twisting motion.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>PING</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>@jaxxon has tipped 50 tokens.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>PING</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>@larry has tipped 25 tokens.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>PING</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>@crazychris has tipped 50 tokens.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>PING</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>@naughty_mary has tipped 100 tokens.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>PING</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>@jaxxon has tipped 100 tokens.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>PING</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>@jboy has tipped 100 tokens.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He's so close, he can feel the heat pooling in his stomach, he can feel his breath getting shallow. He closes his eyes and licks his lips, he knows what he's doing, putting on a show he knows will get them all riled up. He bucks his hips, and let's his fingers ever so softly brush along his hole as he continues to slowly stroke himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>PING</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>@greasemonkey has tipped 1,000 tokens.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Fuck me", he thinks to himself.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He reached the set goal, he can let go now, release, let it all out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh fuck, I'm going to come guys. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck", and like fireworks he feels himself explode. It's like a jolt of electricity coursing through his body, every fiber of his being buzzing all at once, a pure euphoric moment, and he feels the warm ropes of come spurt all over his stomach, across his chest. Fuck he even feels a splatter hit his chin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>PING</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>@greasemonkey has tipped 1,000 tokens.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fuck, he's still tipping. If he'd only say something. Anything. Greasemonkey has been around almost since the beginning, whoever they are, they aren't much for words, and it kills him. There's something about him, the mystery perhaps. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thanks, greasemonkey." He smirks. "It's always a pleasure to have you join, can't tell you how much I enjoy your conversation", he ends with a wink. It's a tease, he can't help it. It's the smut side of him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>@greasemonkey: thanks for the show, maybe next time one of those fingers can push in ;)</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He can't help but let out a chuckle. </span>
  <em>
    <span>"Where's this greasemonkey been hiding all this time?"</span>
  </em>
  <span> He thinks to himself, then turns his eyes back into the camera, "if you're lucky, maybe more than just fingers", he says flirtatiously and returns the wink.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>PING</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>@greasemonkey has tipped 1,000 tokens.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>@jaxxon: get a room already!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>@nutellagirl: I would tip so hard to watch that.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>@crazychris: If anyone's getting a room with him, it's me!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Robert can't help but burst into laughter only it doesn't last long, it falters when he sees the message saying greasemonkey had logged out, maybe he'd said something wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You guys are great", he comes back to remember he has a group of fans still watching. "With that, I'm gonna go clean up and hit the sack. You guys have a good night."</span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I guess this is a fic now 🤣</p><p>And it now has a name thanks to an awesome suggestion!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <span>He knew people, he got them, he really did. All he needed was a few moments to get a read on them. Who they were, what they were about, what they were after, and in some cases even what turned them on. Hell, he was pretty fucking fantastic at it. It was the only reason he had gotten so far in life as it was with his circumstances and all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This greasemonkey monkey though. He was like a fucking enigma. Most of his viewers or fans as some would call them would give him something to work with. Profile pictures, direct messages, or even just messages throughout his streams, but this greasemonkey wasn't like that. No profile picture, no messages, hell, the guy; if he even was a guy, would barely ever say a word. He tipped though, he tipped rather well. He always seemed pretty eager to get Robert to his thresholds, to his goals...anything to see him get off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had all but spaced thinking about it, about him, or her for that matter; trying to put a face to the name. Not that it was possible really, but a guy could dream.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he threw himself back onto his bed with a hand towel in hand, he cleaned himself off. His hand gently wiped down his chest, down his stomach, and he couldn't quite help himself to wipe the spurt off his chin. A swift wipe of his middle and index finger is all it took, a motion that moved further out so his eyes could get a clear look at his handy work before licking his lips, and just as quickly licking them clean.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Bet they'd have loved this", </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thought to himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>"I bet greasemonkey would have loved it".</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He felt content. His breath had gone back to normal, his head laid comfortably on his pillow, and he laid naked in bed having just gotten off. Smirking to himself as he laid in the gentle light of his room, he picked up his phone and let his fingers tap away as he tweeted away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>@smuggers: Glad you guys could join me. I promise more fun next time.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn't long before his phone began to buzz with notifications.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>@jonnyboy: Can't wait.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>@nutellagirl: Getting my popcorn ready.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>@crazychris: You letting a fan join you?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>@jaxxon: Are you kidding! Mate, as if it could get anymore fun?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>@jboy: Just tell us when!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Naughty_mary and 45 others liked your tweet.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Insanity is what this was. Only seconds after he tweeted and he had already garnered so much attention, still he couldn't help but be disappointed. The one person's reaction he was waiting on was the only one he wasn't getting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a deep sigh, he pushed his head back further into his pillow, ready to pass out. He'd nearly let the drowsiness take him had it not been for the buzzing of a new notification.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He quickly picked up his phone and turned the screen on to see what it was, letting a wide smile overtake his face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Greasemonkey has liked your tweet.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~~~~~~~~</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>His chest heaves, beads of sweat slide down his soft alabaster skin, and his breath nearly hitches. It's nothing but soft gasps leaving past his lips as he bounces gently up and down. </span>
  <em>
    <span>"Fuck me", </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thinks to himself as he wipes his forearm across his face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"On your left", he lets out between gasps alerting the bird taking her sweet time in front him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He's out for a run and nothing irks him more than other joggers running along the middle of a path, even more so, someone taking up the space at such a fucking languid pace. He would have been pratt about it if he had not been half enjoying the view. An arse like that, it's meant to be admired.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's hot outside, way fucking hotter than he likes, so he's taken to running with his top off, it's safely tucked away into the waist of his shorts, but he wishes he could keep it on. On the contrary to what some might think, he's a bit shy. It's what some would consider an oxymoron. A cocky bastard like himself, shy?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He's well past her when he finally comes to a stop as he bends over, placing his hands to his knees, he heaves for air.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Nice form", another jogger says through a sly smile, a smirk really. The bloke is giving him some serious looks, he's got this killer hair, sort of long, and piercing blue eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If he hadn't been so hot and already flushed, his face would have probably turned a light shade of red.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Uh...thanks", he finally managed to get out between gasps as he looks up at the bloke.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You new around here?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No, can't say that I am", he tells that stranger as he stands upright soliciting a chuckle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Sorry, my lousy attempt at a pick up line", the bloke adds.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Is that what that was?" He nearly laughs in return watching the flush of red creep up on the bloke's face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Soz, I've been trying to work up the courage to just say hi for weeks...maybe I jumped ahead of myself", the bloke looked like he was about to run away in embarrassment. "Thought I'd ask you out for a pint or summat".</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Robert", he introduced himself as he stretched out his hand for a shake.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Connor".</span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
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